


Windows and Daemons

by alicat54c



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicat54c/pseuds/alicat54c
Summary: Despite falling through a window in the air into a strange steam punk version of Florida, despite all his sides becoming not only physical beings but animals, there was one thing every part of Thomas was certain of. No matter where he or his sides went, they would always be drawn back to each other.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Windows and Daemons

...

“You need to remain calm, Thomas,” Logan said. His black feathers ruffled, light reflecting back a blue sheen. His beak automatically flicked back to comb them back into place, before Logan realized what he was doing. He stopped, disgruntled, though it was hard to tell the expression on a raven’s face.

“This is bad, this is bad!” Virgil chanted. His wolf spider legs tickled across the hairs beside Thomas’s ear, and Thomas resisted the urge to slap at the side of his head. “They’re gonna find us out, then we’ll be stoned to death- or cut open and experimented on- or whatever this insane Catholic dictatorship nightmare world does-!”

“We are going to be fine,” hissed Janus. His yellow and black scales were warm where he pressed against Thomas’s skin, hidden under the collar of his shirt and jacket. “Remember, you are an eccentric academic who is here to speak to more eccentric academics, and you have gained prestige and riches for theorizing on the creation of machinery to distill nitrates from the air-”

Patton’s distressed croak sounded. A tiny blue frog’s head peaked out of the inner pocket of Thomas’s coat. “Stealing ideas and presenting them as our own in plagiarism.” 

“Technically,” Logan said, from his perch on the back of the cabin’s seat, “The Haber-Bach process has not been conceptualized or patented in the alternate history of this world. Thomas’s papers theorizing as to the mechanics of the process are therefore not technically plagiarism.”

“See?” Hissed Janus, body tightening around Thomas’s throat comfortingly. “So now that we have once again rehashed the particulars of this fruitful conversation, I suggest that we-”

Thomas leaned his forehead against the glass with a sigh, cutting off his thoughts. Clouds blew by beneath the cabin of the airship, obscuring the English countryside in patches of shadow. “I hope Roman and Remus are all right.”

“We would know if anything happened to them,” Patton assured, pressing a damp foot to Thomas’s collar.

“But what if we didn’t?” Virgil hissed, from his hiding place in Thomas’s hair. “We don’t know how all this animal stuff-”

“The correct term is daemon,” Logan said.

“-fine whatever, how all this ‘daemon’ stuff works!”

Logan crooned a hum in the back of his throat. “Be that as it may, both swans and grey geese are capable of flying long distances for migratory purposes. In the event that they did lose the zeppelin while following us, they would easily be able to find us once more.”

To this Virgil had no rebuttal, for it was true. Despite falling through a window in the air into a strange steam punk version of Florida, despite all his sides becoming not only physical beings but animals, there was one thing every part of Thomas was certain of. No matter where he or his sides went, they would always be drawn back to each other.

The crude electrical- no, they called it ambaric here- speaker inset into the lavish wood paneling of his private cabin crackled to life, indicating the zeppelin would be landing soon.

Patton tucked himself back into Thomas’s pocket, where a damp handkerchief kept his skin from drying out. Virgil tucked himself more thoroughly into thomas’s hair, his body barely larger than a fingernail, despite his long legs. Janus gave Thomas’s neck a final squeeze, before shifting and settling. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see something moving under his coat. Somewhere, a distance away, swooping through the clouds, Thomas could taste the idea of wind in feathers and the freefall swoop in his stomach. Logan hopped from the cushioned chair to Thomas’s shoulder. 

“Are you ready Thomas?” he croaked.

Thomas’s lips pulled back in a smile. “Not at all.”  
…

Here is what the academics of Jordan college understand about Mister Thomas Sanders.

Firstly, he was one of the rare individuals with a daemon of the same sex as himself, however as it was of the most uncouth manners to bring up such a thing, it was summarily tucked away where most scandalous gossip between servants was kept. Any attempt to speak with his stately raven daemon by other daemons was met with curt answers or stony silence.

Second, he was an eccentric academic of middle class birth from the Republic of Texas in the Americas, who through self study and inspired conjecture, published several ground breaking papers in the fields of alchemy and engineering. This led him to licensing his technologies to achieve great profit for himself in a very short amount of time. 

Usually, such mercantile bartering of knowledge would be looked down upon by those who felt tainting the pure study of knowledge with commerce was sacrilege. However, Mister Sanders had proven himself to be a studious academic, interested in a wide variety of theoretical topics. His correspondences with multiple chaplains on the nature of matter and queries of distant travels were enthusiastic enough to gain Mister Sanders invitations to visit several colleges to discuss his theories.

And now he was here, at Jordan college at last, to attend a seminar by Lord Asrael himself to discuss his work and explorations in the uncharted tundra of the north.

All of that was a carefully constructed facade, of course. What money Thomas had made on his ‘discoveries’ covered the costs of his travels, with just enough leftover to masquerade as the kind of man he was pretending to be. He had never been so grateful for his long talks with Talyn about period appropriate costuming. Roman in particular loved the smart victorian suit, though he was loath to agree with Janus on the necessity of a hat and cane.

Thomas stepped through the gates of Jordan college, a footman carrying his one piece of luggage behind him. It made Thomas severely uncomfortable, but, as several sides of himself agreed, appearances must be kept if he wanted to find his way home. Yay white male privilege. 

“My good Mister Sanders!” A man trailing a lynx daemon hurried towards him. 

“Hammond,” Logan whispered in his ear. Thomas smiled broadly, shrugging on the persona of academic Roman and Logan had worked so hard together to curate, under Janus’s supervision.

“Dr. Hammond, it is so good to meet you in person!”

The scientist- no, they called them chaplains here, remember- clapped Thomas on the shoulder. “My good sir, I have been wishing for a chance to speak with you! Your work on distilling gasses has simply revolutionised the field! Not to mention the good your licensing of the technology has done for the crop yields of the continent!”

“I would love to, however it has been a long flight, and I am a bit tired.”

“Of course, of course.” Hammond waved off the footman, as he steered Thomas towards the front doors of the college. “We commercial academics ought to stick together. The Master of the College is a brilliant man, make no mistake, but the other scholars, well…”

Thomas’s laugh had a touch of geniality, as the two walked and talked.

The lynx tried to catch Logan’s eye several times, but the raven seemed intent on the conversation being had.

Two large birds swooped overhead, honking loudly.  
...

Outside, a growing number of voices shrieked something about a goose running through the yard with a knife in its beak.

Thomas sighed again, slumping against the window ledge. He had a few hours to relax in his room before the academic schmoozing continued. Lord Asrael was due to arrive the next day, and Thomas could only hope the man’s rumored work was worth the trip.

A thumping beat of wings, and a heavy body thumped against his arms. 

“Way to stick the landing,” Virgil sniggered from his perch by Thomas’s ear.

“Oh can it, Charlotte,” Roman honked, wings flopping as he struggled to get his webbed feet back under him. “You’re not the one who had to fly who knows how many miles with Remus on your tail feathers.”

“Roman!” Patton croaked, leaping from Thomas’s shoulder to land on the bird’s back. Thomas felt a pull in his heart at even the short distance. “I’m so glad to see you! We were all so worried!”

“I wasn’t,” Janus hissed, his head poking out from under Thomas’s collar to check on the other sides. As his scales lifted slightly from his skin, Thoma’s felt another tug in his chest. Janus rubbed the top of his head under Thomas’s chin in apology, resettling his coils against his skin.

“Where’s Remus?” Logan croaked, hopping closer. 

Another scream in the courtyard, and an ear splitting cackling honk rattled their eardrums.

Logan’s feathers ruffled. “I rescind my question in light of new information.”

Roman hissed in the direction of the ruckus. “He was terrible company.” Beady black eyes blinked up at him. “Thomas, I am simply famished! Do you have any bread?”

“Yes, of course. One of the maids brought up something for Logan.” Thomas drew back to allow the swan in through the window. When Roman was fully inside, he cuddled him to his chest, face buried in white feathers. “I’m glad you are all right. Both of you.” 

A flat beak preened his hair with gentle sifting tugs. “You know that I would never leave your side Thomas! A hero can never be kept away for long!”

Thomas sniffed, fingers burying in feathers. “I know- I just-”

White wings tried to stretch around him, but the angle and joint was all wrong, so instead of a hug, Roman only managed to flap his wings against Thomas’s sides.

“Perhaps a nap will help rebalance your emotional state,” Logan croaked. “The journey was quite exhausting, for all parties involved. And I’m sure the maid can be asked to stay outside, so as not to see Roman.”

“Yeah that- that sounds good,” Thomas said. 

He reached over to the window. Just before it closed, he swore he saw a small figure scuttle away over the clay chimneys and out of site.

He rubbed his eyes, and slumped onto the bed. Roman was already making a nest of the pillows for him to rest his head.

“I’ll make sure you have the most pleasant dreams, Thomas.” Roman preened his hair as his eyes drifted shut, careful not to disturb the small spider curled up behind Thomas’s ear.  
…

Thomas slept through all that night to the next morning. Logan had croaked through the door for the maid and butler to leave him be while he rested, and a plate of cold cuts with wine and a glass of water was left outside his door.

“You know Thomas,” Janus said, dipping his tongue delicately into the glass as Thomas offered some bread to Roman, “You wouldn’t have people serving you breakfast in bed if you were an academic back home.”

“Yeah, well he also wouldn’t be killed for being gay back home, so,” Roman hissed, between bites. 

Janus tucked himself back under Thomas’s collar. “Hm, I suppose one can’t have everything.”

A tickle to the back of his ear made Thomas turn his head towards the door, just in time for the maid to knock, and ask for his plates.

“I’ll leave them by the door,” he called, Virgil tapping insistently against the back of his ear. He waited, breath baited, until the maid’s footsteps became faint. Then, carefully, he opened the window. “I’m sorry Roman, I think you need to go.”

The swan flapped its wings in a stretch, the wind buffeting Logan from his perch with a squawk. “Do not worry Thomathy, I shall have an adventurous touring jolly old England! Perhaps I may even find a performance of Shakespeare in the Park?”

“You should also make sure Remus hasn’t been turned into tonight’s dinner,” Janus hissed, tongue flicking.

The swan rolled its head grandly, being unable to roll its eyes. “Ugg, I guess.”

“Please Roman?” Patton croaked. His enormous black eyes shined, from where he was swimming around Thomas’s crystal water glass. 

Roman’s head flicked to the side with a hiss. “Of course I’ll do it for you, Padre.”

Patton croaked happily, ducking back under the surface of the water to do a little flip.

“Well, I must be off then!” Roman said, flapping to get up to the windowsill. “Until we meet again!”

Thomas ran a hand over the swan’s head. “Be careful, all right?”

Roman’s chest puffed out. “Of course! I’m not the one in danger of becoming goose stew!”  
…

Later, Thomas walked through the courtyard, trying to find the botanical gardens. He had a few hours until the seminar with Lord Azrael and the other Jordan college scholars. Under his collar, Janus shifted, enjoying what sunshine he could feel through layers of cloth.

The slap of feet against cobblestones broke the silence, and a cannonball in the shape of a child launched itself around the corner.

“Woah there,” Thomas said, hands flying to the hidden sides in his coat.

The child skidded to a stop inches from collision, resolving itself into a girl with dirt smudged on her face and knees.

The little girl looked up at him, eyes widening. Her daemon flick flick flicked in a glitter of gold, before stepping in front of her as a grumpy pitbull pup.

Thomas wanted to coo at how adorable it was.

“Lyra!” the girl’s companion hissed, rocketing around the bend with a cacophony of running feet. The boy froze upon seeing Thomas, hands snapping to his sides. The boy’s daemon changed from a bird of prey to a cocker spaniel, tail tucked between her legs. The boy made a clumsy bow. 

“Sorry sir! We were just playing! We didn’t mean nothin by it!” The boy grabbed her hand, and tugged her away.

“Rodger!” the girl, Lyra, hissed, as she was dragged around the corner. “That’s the man I told you about, the one on the roof with the-”

Virgil’s movements in Thomas’s hair increased tempo at the girl’s words, but a squeeze from Janus calmed his pulse. She was just a little kid, and going after her would bring more suspicion than it was worth….no matter what she thinks she saw.

Nevertheless, Logan leapt from Thomas’s shoulder to fly up high enough to track the children’s journey across the yard and into one of the buildings. He curved in the air, and landed again on Thomas’s shoulder. 

“They most likely are the children of the servants,” he croaked. “I doubt we will see them again.”

A bell began to ring in the tower. 

Logan settled, feathers warm against Thomas’s cheek. “We should ask someone how to get to the drawing room; we don’t want to be late for the meeting.”  
...

Thomas stared at the heavy oak door. His fingers itched to fiddle with his cuffs, but strict instructions from Roman and Janus to maintain his appearance prevented him.

Inside the room was a possibility of getting home.

Thomas let out the breath he had been holding. He felt the tickle at his scalp of Virgil petting the back of his ear with one of his long legs. Janus’s scales were warm around his neck.

“You will do fine, Thomas,” Logan croaked from his shoulder, black feathers pressing into his cheek. “And should this venture not be as fruitful as desired, we will simply find another. Do not lose hope un-necessarily.”

“Yeah,” Thomas breathed. Plastering his smile back into place, he opened the door.

“Mister Sanders,” Hammond greeted, ushering Thomas closer. His lynx daemon sat up, ears alert. “Pay no mind to the mess, a bottle of tokay spilled. Now, have you made the acquaintance of Lord Asriel?”

Patton beat a silent croak against Thomas’s chest, and Janus’s stillness around his throat still betrayed his tension. 

“No I have not.” He held out his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Asriel.”  
...

**Author's Note:**

> Blue dart frog = not eating things to make him poisonous - Patton  
> Mangrove snake = Janus  
> Raven = Logan  
> Swan = Roman  
> Grey goose = Remus  
> Wolf spider = Virgil


End file.
